


Countdown

by AuthorA97



Series: 52 Stories in 52 Weeks [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Slap Bet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 15:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorA97/pseuds/AuthorA97
Summary: Morgan and Darcy, at it again.The prompt was 'countdown'.





	Countdown

Now, let it be said. Darcy and I were sisters.

We love each other.

However, we’re sisters.

We hate each other.

The best example of this was the events of what happened our Third Year of Hogwarts. This being a time I went by Mosag Snape and she went by Daisy Smith.

It was somewhere in the third week of it. My sister was eating breakfast with Ron. The two were debating over a selection of chocolate frog cards. Daisy was proud of her Newt Scamander card.

She was trying to weasel a more rare card from Ron. He was being stubborn.

Usually I was down first for breakfast. For the purposes of being dramatic I let her arrive first. Walking up beh

I put down the first sticky note.

Daisy looked at it in confusion. “73?”

“73.”

“Why am I holding a note that says 73?”

“Hey Harry, how’s your food?” I changed the subject. “They got chocolate pancakes today?”

“No. Just muffins.” Harry answered.

“Ah well.”

Daisy just gave me a raised eyebrow.

She was suspicious.

Good.

 

==CD==

 

The next day, I repeated the process. Daisy went down to eat first. Some odd minutes later, I followed with a note.

“72?”

“These pancakes are amazing. Think we can convince the House Elves to finally make them chocolate?”

 

==CD==

 

They were in the Common Room this time. I slipped her the note as she was doing a late Potions Essay.

“71. Okay now this is just stupid.”

“You know what else is stupid? Johnlock not being canon.”

“Johnlock is totally canon. If you need to kiss to show you love each other, you’re doing it wrong...what were we talking about?”

“Nothing to worry your pretty head about.”

 

==CD==

 

She was at breakfast again. “I’m seeing a pattern. 70. They’re counting down.”

“What’s counting down?” I asked, playing dumb. Sitting beside her I began making a plate of (plain) pancakes with eggs.

“The notes you’re giving me.”

“What notes?”

“The sticky notes!”

“What sticky notes!”

“Stop playing dumb! It doesn’t suit you!”

“You know what suits me? This suit.” I straightened my tie. “Nothing suits me like a suit!”

Daisy’s eyes narrowed. A seed was planted. Now as to how long it would take to sprout was anyone’s guess. Herbology wasn’t my best class.

 

==CD==

 

The next time I gave her the note in the Great Hall.

“Okay now I know you’re up to something!” Daisy growled. “So just shut up and tell me.”

“Huh? What’re you on about now?” I asked, putting on a confused face.

Daisy held up the sticky note. It had ‘69’ on it, in blocky letters and a line underneath. “Why are you giving me these?”

“Maybe I wanted to make a pervert joke.”

“You wouldn’t give me a countdown to a pervert joke. You’re planning on doing this again tomorrow. Why?”

“It’s funny.” I grinned.

It must’ve given something away. Daisy’s eyes shrunk in fear. “Countdown. You’re counting down to something.”

“Am I?”

“Oh I hate you when you’re like this.” Daisy shuddered. She pulled her plate just that little bit further away.

“Like what?”

“Like a megalomaniac that forgets they’re a megalomaniac.”

“Ha. Liked I’d ever forget something as cool as my megalomania.”

 

==CD==

 

“I FIGURED IT OUT, YOU BITCH!”

This was what Daisy screamed as she stormed in the Great Hall for breakfast.

I was midway through a bowl of oatmeal. The pancakes had lost their  The Gryffindors around me watched the events unfolded, curious and confused.

My sister stormed up to me, holding up the latest note ‘68’ which I’d left on her bedpost.

“And I’m _ not _ living your demented holiday again!”

We’d gotten the attention of the other tables. Including the Teacher’s table. So I stared at the note, while ignoring Snape’s eyes burning the back of my head.

“You can pronounce _ ‘demented’ _ ?” Was my reply.

“You bint.” Daisy slammed the note down beside my plate. “I’m not doing it.”

Now I was allowed to have fun. She understood the game that was being played. My shoulders straightened, my chin raised up. My smile was reassuring to Daisy the same way the scorpion’s was to the toad.

“You agreed to these Rules when you accepted the terms-”

“I know what I agreed to! This wasn’t it!” Daisy ranted.

“You knew it would become that, though.” I reminded her. “A part of me thinks you hoped it would.”

“Yeah, but I’d be doing it to you! Not the other way around!”

“There’s only one way around the holiday. You have to-”

“SHUT UP YOU BINT I WILL _ NEVER _ DO THAT!” Daisy began to storm away.

I chuckled under my breath.

“I called it... _ Daisy Smith and the Slap of Fire.” _ I announced to her retreating form.

“Please tell me that’s because that’s Year Four.” Daisy pleaded.

I smiled.

Daisy let a whimper of agony. 

“Mosag Snape! Daisy Smith!” Professor McGonagall shouted. It was then that I noticed we’d gotten the attention of the entire Hall. “You will come speak with me  _ at once! _ ”

 

==CD==

 

The Head of our House brought us to her study. She, along with Professor Snape, glare at us from the ends of their noses. 

Daisy stood to my left. She was tense. The entire walk up she was a ball of anxiety. In comparison, I was the picture of innocence. It made everything that much funnier for me.

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes at Daisy. The girl didn’t flinch at the glare. McGonagall moved it towards me. I smiled innocently.

“Due to your circumstances, Miss Snape, I brought your father along.” Professor McGonagall explained. The Potions professor had been glaring at me since Daisy shouted in the Great Hall. “You will explain to us

“We made a bet. I lost.” Daisy explained, petulant.

“Is it possible for you to  _ expand _ on your ‘friend’s’ story?” Snape prompted me.

“You see, we don’t have any money.” I began. “So we offered up the only thing we had. Our hands.” I raised mine into jazz hands.

Daisy flinched. It was funny. I laughed, sounding maniacal.

“That laugh made it worse.” Daisy complained.

“You’re welcome.”

“What kind of  _ bet _ ?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“A Slap Bet.” Daisy and I answered.

Professors McGonagall and Snape raised their eyebrows. The effect was mind blowing.

“The participants of the bet have two options.” I began to explain. “Option One: ten Slaps in the face from Person A all at once, hard as they can. Option Two: Five Slaps at any given point from the start to death.”

Professor Snape was staring at me. His expression said he wondered if I’d been Polyjuiced. He wasn’t totally wrong.

“I chose the Five. At the time, it was less scary.” Daisy admitted. “Except  _ she _ -” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “-is _ cruel _ ! She never just  _ gives _ me the Slap. She makes it  _ build up _ !”

“You mentioned notes.” Professor McGonagall turned to Daisy. “What were those for?”

“That’s the cruel part!” Daisy added. “She’s counting down!”

“To what?”

“Slapsgiving!” I cheered, waving my hands out again. Daisy ducked, squeaking in fear. “A holiday created based off the American Thanksgiving. Slapsgiving occurs on the fourth Thursday in November. Slapsgiving ends at sunset on the day, which means Person A  _ must _ give the promised Slap to Person B or else they lose the chance for Slapsgiving to be valid.”

“Which she allows does at the last minute. Stupid bint.”  Daisy grumbled.

“Miss Smith, mind your language.” Professor McGonagall scolded.

“All due respect. You don’t get the fear I’m under right now.” Daisy countered.

“This game cannot be allowed to continue.” Professor Snape informed us.

“There’s only one way to prevent the Slap once Slapsgiving is called. You have to trade the Slap for an equally humiliating event.” Behind my back, I pulled out a hideous blue tie with golden yellow ducks. “There are many events that can be traded for a Slap. The only approved one-to date- is:  _ the Ducky Tie.” _

“The  _ Cursed _ Ducky Tie.” Daisy growled. She pointed to the tie, angrily ranting to the professors. “I’ve had that thing burned, torn up, cut up, shipped off, painted over, even bloody turned inside out! The bloody thing keeps coming back good as new!”

“I gotta agree. This thing is definitely cursed.” She had a point, I had to give her that. This tie was definitely cursed. “I changed it around to fit the uniform rules. The ducks are Gryffindor yellow, and their eyes are Gryffindor red.”

“The tie part is still blue!” Daisy pointed out loudly.

“Ravenclaw blue, best I could do on short notice.” I assured.

Daisy grumbled. “I hate you so much.”

“Thank you.” I held the tie out to her. “Do you accept the Tie?”

“No!” Daisy snapped. She stared at the tie as if it was staring back.

“Girls, this is  _ not _ a game.” Professor McGonagall scolded us.

“We know.” We answered.

“We made a vow, we have to follow it.” I stated, to the shock of the professors. “What was the Bet we made, again?”

“Which jolly ranchers would stick to a wall longer.” Daisy answered after a quick thought. “I picked green apple, you said grape.”

I chuckled. “That’s right. I won because I put more spit on mine.” Daisy tilted her head. “I won because I sucked.”

Daisy groaned. “You _ suck _ .”

I chuckled again.

 

==CD==

_ Days to Slapsgiving: 67 _

 

By the following Monday, everyone had heard about Slapsgiving 4.

Dumbledore made an announcement that none of the other students should participate in their own Slap Bets. I was alright with that. Some people don’t know the power of a Slap in the wrong hands.

Every time I dropped a note in Daisy’s lap (to her incessant whining), they all giggled.

The Weasley twins approached me that afternoon between Herbology and Charms class.

“So I  _ get  _ the point of the slaps-” Fred began.

“-what we  _ don’t _ get is the countdown.” George added.

I smiled (feeling sharklike). “More fun for me.”

“Oh?” Both twins asked for further explanation. 

“What’s more fun: one prank and your done, or  _ three _ months of pre-slap where the pranked jumps at shadows? I like option two.”

“That’s  _ cruel. _ ” Came from George with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Why didn’t she take the Ten?” Fred asked. 

“She’s scared of  _ one _ slap. Imagine how scared she is of  _ ten _ .”

 

==CD==

_ Days to Slapsgiving: 53 _

 

“I don’t understand this!” Hermione ranted as Mosag left the Common Room.

The blonde had just left another sticky note. Daisy whined in fear (honestly it sounded like a bleating goat) as Mosag skipped away.

“You two are best friends! Doesn’t she see what she’s doing to you?” Hermione asked.

“Why do you think she’s doing it?” Daisy asked. “You’ve known her for years. This is normal for her.”

Hermione conceded that Daisy had a point. Mosag had the habit of telling Hermione they had an extra homework assignment (assigned before Hermione got to class. Damn that Time Turner). The prank was usually revealed whenever Hermione asked another student or the teacher themselves.

Harry and Ron had unknowingly been dragged into that prank more than once. Mosag laughing usually made Hermione see the trick.

“She’s just being cruel for cruelty’s sake.”

“Gets that from her dad.” Ron commented.

No one argued. 

 

==CD==

_ Days to Slapsgiving: 39 _

 

Okay well  _ one  _ guy argued.

Severus didn’t think he was  _ overtly _ cruel. It was just that his students were all idiots. He didn’t drag out the torture beyond one potions class. Unless it was for Potter or his band of friends.

Which, unfortunately, included his child.

He had made her stay behind after a potions class. 

She was smiling innocently. Severus knew better.

“Mosag.” He began.

“Father.” Mosag greeted.

Severus didn’t appreciate the sarcasm in her tone. “Miss Smith was on edge today.”

“Nothing out of the normal for her.” Mosag assured. “She’s always been jumpy.”

Severus was giving Mosag a pointed stare.

“Oh come off it. She’s not  _ scared _ . She’s having a blast! I have fifteen Slaps saved up for her. She’s got seven for me.” Mosag explained. “If she had such a problem, she could Slap me back. I’m prepared for that.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t assure me.” Severus replied.

“Nothing does.” Mosag tsked. 

Yeah Severus took House Points for that comment.

When Mosag told the other Gryffindor it was because of the Slap Bet, none of them could be angry. They were ahead anyway.

 

==CD==

_ Days to Slapsgiving: 25 _

 

“ _ Are _ you alright with this?” Remus asked the young Gryffindor. Severus had told the other teachers what he’d discussed with his daughter, of Miss Smith’s cooperation with this game. Remus would check for himself, thank you.

“Are you kidding me?” Miss Smith answered flatly. She suddenly went to a beaming smile. “I’m having a blast!”

Remus tucked his lips in a thin line. “Now, Miss Smith, are you being truthful, or are you perhaps saying that because of your friend’s presence?”

Yes, she was there. In the back of the DADA room, waiting by the door. Miss Snape was leaning against the wall. She was looking down at her nails, bored. She was definitely listening in. Remus had seen that pose before from his days at Hogwarts. He was sure he’d seen James in that exact spot at least a hundred times waiting for Siriu-

He brought himself back to the present. It wasn’t good to dwell on that traitor now. Remus had to deal with another group of troublemakers.

“Didn’t you ever do something stupid with your friends?” Miss Smith asked.

Remus couldn’t answer. He quickly became lost in his memories, of all the pranks he helped his friends with. All the pranks he used his station as Prefect to cover for them. Peter distracting Professor McGonagall while James and Black jinxed the floor of the dungeons to trap the Slytherins.

Miss Smith accepted that as answer enough.

“It’s stupid, see. Because, we made this bet  _ ages  _ ago. I’m not scared anymore. I told her that. I’ve become immune to being scared. She said she was giving me the Slap of Ten Thousand Exploding Suns.” Miss Smith complained. “She made up this whole story about being trained by a Slap-master in the art of Slapping! Obviously made up, right?”

“I was trained by  _ three different _ masters at Slap!” Miss Snape corrected.

Miss Smith scoffed, smirking. She didn’t believe her friend.

Miss Snape didn’t like the dismissal. She walked over to a nearby rowdy crate. “Professor Lupin, what’s in this?”

Remus shrugged. “Just a box of pixies. I’m preparing them for a class of second years.” He winced as the pixies made another large racket. The racket was so loud that the box had come off the ground when the pixies bounced on the side.

Miss Snape nodded. She looked down at her hand, then down to the crate. She looked up to Miss Smith. Without breaking eye contact, Miss Snape Slapped the crate.

The noise stopped.

Miss Smith paled. She turned back to Remus, purple eyes wide in fear. “I’m going to die...” She realized.

“Yeah. She’ll be getting the Slap of A Million Exploding Suns.” Miss Snape cheered.

“You said Ten Thousand!” Miss Smith accused.

Miss Snape put on a face of innocence. “Did I?”

 

==CD==

_ Days to Slapsgiving: 10 _

 

They met by the Whomping Willow. It was after Remus had gone through. Morgan and Darcy had the habit of coming to the Willow at Moon Rise.

Their Travels to werewolf realities had left them with enough of the Wolf to keep Moony from attacking. 

This time, Darcy stopped Morgan just before they went inside the tunnel.

“Yeah sis?” Morgan asked.

Darcy winced. “Can we  _ not _ celebrate Slapsgiving?”

Morgan eyed her sister warily.

“I just mean-” Darcy paused. She was figuring out how best to word this. “That we’re, ya know, older. I’m fine with celebrating in private, in our dorm. We don’t need to make it  _ public _ .”

“I like making it  _ public _ .” Morgan teased.

“That’s because you’re an exhibitionist.” Darcy countered, angrily. She took a pause to calm herself. “I don’t want a public Slap. Can we negotiate?”

Morgan considered this. “What are you offering?”

“I’m not wearing the Tie.” Daisy immediately stated. “Ever. Okay? Non-negotiable. I’m  _ open _ ...to other options.”

Her sister’s eyes were lit up in interest. “We’ll need to discuss with the Slap-Bet Commissioner.” Morgan informed. She was  _ liking _ this game.

Darcy waved it away. “Yeah, yeah. Call your boytoy. Let’s get this settled.”

Morgan grinned not unlike a shark. “We’ll have to explain whatever you decide to the teachers.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” For a few minutes, Darcy had hope she’d get out of Slapsgiving. “I’ll do it. Can you?”

“Obviously.” Morgan’s smile countered what she was saying. She motioned an arm towards the willow. “Shall we?”

Darcy nodded. She climbed inside the Willow as the full moon shined overhead. Morgan waited before following her sister. 

She laughed. In what others would call  _ ‘manically’. _

“She’s totally still getting Slapped.” Morgan chuckled. She made sure to stop laughing before following her sister.

All the while, a hidden Grim had heard them. No one had seen a Grim laugh before. It was entertaining.

 

==CD==

_ Days to Slapsgiving: 5 _

 

The Sunday before Slapsgiving, they met at Hagrid’s for tea.

Negotiations had not gone well...for Daisy at least. Morgan was having a blast.

“You’re a  _ bitch _ .” Daisy groaned. “We made this bet for fun. Now it’s like a fight to my death.”

“Not my fault you didn’t accept my offers.” Mosag conceded. “Also, way to be considerate. Talking about a Death March in front of Buckbeak.”

Daisy scoffed. “Harry and Hermione will save him. I don’t  _ need _ to be scared. It’s stupid. And ridiculous.  _ Like this Bet _ .”

“You agreed to it!” Mosag reminded. “So suck it up.”

Daisy whined.

 

==CD==

_ Days to Slapsgiving: 3 _

 

They were walking out of a Care of Magical Creatures class.

Mosag was standing at one end of their group, followed by Harry, Hermione, Ron, and lastly Daisy.

“So I begged the teacher to teach me the Slap of Three Hundred Million Suns-”

“You said ten!” Daisy argued from behind Ron.

“Ten  _ Hundred  _ Million Suns-” Mosag corrected herself, not missing a beat.

Daisy realized her mistake. She groaned out, dripping her head on Ron’s shoulder. “Kill her for me, would you?”

“Why would I do that?” Ron asked, concerned for his safety at the mere idea.

“You’re ginger. Ginger people are soulless beasts.” Daisy waved a hand to Mosag. “She’s doing a better job of it than you! Defend your nature!”

Ron grimaced. “She can have it.”

Harry and Hermione laughed. Mosag puffed her chest proudly.

 

==CD==

_ Slapsgiving _

 

Today was the day.

The sun was shining.

Mosag was pampering her Slap Hand.

Daisy was going to be Slapped.

She walked around Hogwarts like she was in a funeral march. She jumped at turning every corner, every opening door, too loud voices. Everyone knew to be cautious around Daisy Smith today.

In contrast, Mosag was a delight. She engaged in class, talked with her classmates about homework, she even bloody  _ skipped _ . She was on Cloud Nine.

The only odd thing was how they were behaving towards each other.

Mosag was _ ignoring _ Daisy. In the same way as she did when she gave Daisy the first note. 

“When are you going to Slap her?” Harry asked during lunch.

Mosag popped a chip in her mouth. “It’s due by sunset.”

“So...?” Harry paused for clarification.

Mosag grinned. “I procrastinate.” Harry chuckled in agreement. “ _ You _ , Mister Potter, don’t get to argue with me about _ procrastinating. _ ”

Harry laughed again, albeit awkwardly. She had a point.

So, came dinner time. Mosag hadn’t Slapped Daisy yet. According to them, the rules stated she had until 7:58 (their sunset) until the Slap was void. Daisy knew Mosag was going to milk out every second of fear that she could.

At dinner, Daisy sat across from Mosag. It would be harder for Mosag to hit her from across the table. It gave Daisy time to prepare for the blow, form some kind of counter. She could roll backwards from it, or perhaps hope that another student would protect-

Oh who was she kidding? The other students wanted to see this as much as Mosag did. The Slytherin especially. Any form of mudblood torture was good as tea for them.

Which gave Daisy her _ idea. _

Daisy shot up in her seat. She pushed her palms on the table to glare at Mosag. “You’re really gonna Slap me today? Good. Good for you. Now you can prove to everyone that Purebloods are better than Muggleborns.”

Many in the room gasped.

Mosag just gave her sister a curious look. She wondered when her sister was going to play that card.

To Daisy, though, she saw the face of a girl realizing what horror she’d unleashed. Madness always brought the best in her. “Yeah, that’s right.” Daisy cheered. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? To show everybody once and for all that muggleborns aren’t real witches. No real witch would take a Slap like this, or be demeaned like I have for the whole school year. You’re finally proving to them who’s superior.”

Daisy lifted her hands off the table. She spread her arms wide, invitingly.

“Well go ahead. Do it.” Daisy challenged. “Slap me right here, right now. Show them what you  _ really _ think about mudbloods.”

She glared in her sister’s eyes, to dare Mosag to even try.

Mosag...was a little proud.

“Wow. You have a point.” Mosag mused.

Daisy’s glare softened- only slightly. “I do?”

“You do.” Mosag conceded. She lowered her hands to the table, pushing her chair out. She rose to her feet so she was on level with Daisy (albeit she was naturally a few inches taller). “I shouldn’t be Slapping you now. Especially not with Sirius Black running around, making everybody think about Pureblood Superiority and the-” She glanced to Harry. “Obvious reasons why he disliked muggleborns.”

Mosag took a step away from the table.

The entire Great Hall held their breath.

Daisy was smiling now. “No...Slap?” She almost let herself hope.

Mosag smiled. There was no predatory glint in her eye, or want for blood shining on her teeth. It was a kind smile you give a friend on their birthday. “No.”

Daisy threw her hands up in the air. “I’m free!” Daisy shrieked to the ceiling.

**_SLAP_ **

Daisy fell to the floor.

“It was still sunset.” Mosag raised her palm high. “THAT’S  _ FOUR _ !”

The Great Hall applauded.

Mosag turned to them, using her slap hand to give a Royal Wave. 

She went back to Daisy. The brunette witch hadn’t gotten up from the floor. She was holding her cheek in her hand.  _ “What is this feeling, that’s put you in your place?” _

“Oh don’t start singing!” Daisy moaned.

_ “A hot red burning on the side, of your face!”  _ Mosag sang louder.

“Slow jam too?! Why must I suffer!?” Daisy cried out. She held her cheek in her hands, curling up on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a thing my brain decided was a good idea. Based off the Slap Bet from ‘How I Met Your Mother’, and the belief that Morgan and Darcy have DEFINITELY made one at some point.


End file.
